Do you believe in ghosts?
by anuminis
Summary: An anonymous caller lead Don and Colby to investigate in a rundown ghost house.


"You got to be kidding me," Colby exclaimed as he stepped out of the car.

"Nope," Don replied the grin clearly audible in his voice.

"Tell me again why we're here," he waved his hand vaguely around him indicating the abandon town around them. "And why it had to be us?" Colby glared at Don who seemed to enjoy himself too much for Colby's liking.

Of course he knew why they were here, because he like Don was on call. Stupid life he grounded his teeth. It was half past twelve on a beautiful Saturday. A Saturday Colby had planned on spending hiking up in the mountains. But instead he got a call from Don telling him that he had to come into work to check with him on an anonymous lead they got in the morning.

He growled sounding like an angry dog; it had been his first free weekend in god knows how long.

Don chuckled at Colby's growl and Colby took a deep breath; it could have been worse, he thought, than being on a road trip with Don. He glanced at the older man feeling irritated by his cheerfulness, it was Don's free weekend too and he thought he would like spending it with Robin instead of driving 2 hours with an irritated Colby.

The last couple of weeks had been stressful to all of them and Colby had really looked forward to spend some time alone in the mountains; he assumed Don would have looked forward to an easy weekend, too.

Unbidden thoughts of Don and Robin together in bed flooded his brain and he shuddered. Squeezing his eyes shut he shook his head to get rid of them.

"You okay?" Don's concerned voice breeched his train of thought.

Colby's eyes snapped open and he felt himself starting to blush. "'m fine," he said it sounded suspiciously like a squeal. He was ashamed with himself; he'd long ago told himself that everything regarding Don in a not professional way was taboo.

"Really?" Don sounded unconvinced.

Colby brutally quashed his feelings that had risen in him at the sight of don and Robin and focused on the here and now. He told himself that Don's trust and friendship was enough, that he couldn't ask for more and that any other feelings he might have for the man would someday hopefully fade away.

"Yeah I'm fine," he managed in a more dignifying tone and gave Don his best winning smile.

"So…uh…what did that anonymous caller said we find here?" He looked at the run down house in front of them.

Don shoots him one of his unreadable glances before he launched into an explanation.

"The man said we would find clues as to where Hendrickson is heading and why he's doing what he's doing."

Colby nodded. Hendrickson was their prime suspect in a series of gruesome killings. The man was slimier than an eel and managed to slip through their well laid net more than once.

They made their way in a mutual silent agreement to the house. It was one of those typical abandoned houses that you would see in horror movies or slash flicks. It was the representative setting for a ghost story, like in that on episode of 'Supernatural' Colby once accidentally watched. What was it called… yeah 'Ghostfacers' Colby snorted, that was one hell of an episode; he couldn't remember when last he had such a good laugh.

"What's so funny," Don asked and the grin was back.

"Nothing," Colby tried to school his face to be more serious but utterly failed. "Just something I remembered, " he added and grinned. Don shook his head but smiled.

The gravel crunched under their shoes as they approached the house; the dead and withered trees looming threateningly above them.

As they climbed the stairs up to the front porch Don started to tell him about what he could gather about this place before they had headed out here.

"This town was abandoned 1962 after the oil well slowly subsided and died. By 1940 almost all of the remaining residents left and it became a ghost town. Only a caretaker family remained living here in this beautiful estate. They too left after a rather gruesome incident that took place here."

Don paused and Colby looked at him seeing his grin grew wider and a joyful twinkle appear in his eyes that Colby had never seen before. He gulped and suppressed a shudder as a pleasant tingling crawled down his spine.

"The best part is," he continued. "There is a story about this house. A legend even, that it is haunted by ghosts."

Colby blinked then looked bewildered at Don. What the fuck, he thought that came totally out of the left field.

Don grinned stupidly at him. Now he knew why Don was so keen to come here.

"Since when do you believe in ghosts?" Colby asked raising one of his eyebrows in question.

"Since I can remember; it just hasn't come up for discussion yet. But don't tell Charlie! He thinks it is stupid. You know him," Don rolled his eyes. "Everything that can't be explained with mathematics isn't real. It was hard enough to get him to understand that I've been going into the synagogue to seek guidance. I'll never hear the end of it, if he knows I believe in ghosts."

Don glanced at Colby to see what his younger agent would think of it, he didn't know why he told Colby all this but he felt that he could trust Colby with something like this. In fact he'd come to trust Colby with everything. After the rough time they had with the whole spy fallout Colby had proven to him again and again that he could trust him. And he did.

Colby just starred baffled back at him and Don smiled. Sometimes Colby was just adorable not that he would ever say that aloud. Instead he asked Colby if he believed in ghosts.

Colby blinked and snapped out of his funk.

"What?" He asked stupidly.

Don rolled his eyes but continued to smile. "Do you believe in ghosts," he repeated.

Colby looked at the boarded-up windows and thought about the question and the answer he would give Don.

"Yes," he said simply. "I've never seen on myself, but I know enough people who would swear on the bible that they have seen one." Don nodded.

"And also," he paused looking at Don his voice became more serious. "Sometimes I can just feel them you know. Their presence, their stares."Don looked Colby deep into the eyes and knew what exactly his agent meant. The feeling he got sometimes when he was at Charlie's house or the cemetery when he visited his mother's grave. The feeling that he was watched; that his mother was looking after him.

Colby sighed and drew his eyes forcefully away from Don and down at the old flooring of the porch.

"Have you seen one?" He asked Don, looking back up.

Don smiled at him. "Actually I have," he said and Colby's eyes grew wider.

"You have," he said incredulously.

"Yup. When I was 9 my mom and dad took us on a summer trip up into the mountains. We stayed in a really small town. Most of the time we went hiking. But with Charlie still being so little we spend a good part of the trip in town. I met other kids and they told me stories about an old house on the outer edge of the town that was uninhabited. They said that it was haunted by the ghost of an old man that used to live there and died 30 years ago. The man was known to dislike children and threaten to kill them if they dared to come too close to his home.

So it became a dare for local children to go in there and bring something back." Don smiled fondly at the memory.

"And you did it? You got into the house," Colby said in awe.

Don grinned. "What can I say, it's in my blood."

Colby snorted at that. "So you saw the ghost of the old man then," he stated.

"Yup," Don said easily.

"Did he do anything? I mean people say that there are good ghosts and evil ghosts and that you should get the hell out of there, if it's an evil one. Like in 'Poltergeist' you know?" Colby shuddered.

"No he just stood there watching me. It was creepy," Don admitted thinking back. Now that he thought of it he'd rather the old man would have done something, hold his arms out and say 'Boo' then just simply stare at him.

Something must have shown on his face because Colby asked, "So what does the legend say? About the gruesome incident?" He gulped uneasy now starring back at the house.

Don found himself fascinated with the way Colby's Adams apple bobbed up and down. Drawing his gaze away from Colby's throat he too looked at the house.

"Well, I said that a caretaker family used to live here after everybody else left?"

Colby nodded.

"Those were the Robinsons. The father Richard had been the administrator of Mr. Merryville the owner of this estate and the oil well. After Merryville died he was given the house to take care of until Merryville's rightful heir had been located.

He lived here with his wife and his seven children for 22 years. He would go to work in the next town and his wife and children would stay home where Mrs. Robinson would teach them.

After 22 peaceful years the rightful owner suddenly appeared, a petty thief and gambler from Vegas, and demanded that they would leave the house by the end of the week. To top the icing Robinsons lost his job the next day.

Faced with immediate poverty and no place to go Mr. Robinson was taken by madness and killed his entire family. He would have set the house on fire, too but couldn't do it. So he killed himself.

After what had happened here the gambler no longer wanted the place and ever since that day this house stands abandoned and is left to rot.

Colby glanced at Don and Don turned towards him and looked him in the eyes.

"The legend goes that Mr. Robinson still haunts this place killing whoever sets foot into it. There is an astonishingly long list of accidents that happened after this fateful night. One ending in the tragic death of a hiker that tried to seek refuge here from a sudden thunderstorm."

"Someone died?" Colby sounded disbelieving.

"Yes. The report on that is very unclear and confusing, but ever since then this area became a restricted area."

That explains a lot, Colby thought, the fence for one thing.

"And what would this anonymous caller possible think we might find here? This place is clearly vacated. I've not seen any sign of trespassing," Colby grounded out a sudden reluctance to go in there. He knew this feeling was irrational, that even if he believed in ghosts there was no way that they could get hurt by one. But fear was after all a primal instinct, a mechanism to ensure survival.

Colby almost jumped as he felt Don's hand on his shoulder giving him a reassuring squeeze.

"I don't know, but you know as good as I do that we have to follow every lead we get. Be grateful that it is still broad daylight," Don joked, but took a calming breath himself.

Colby sighed. "Thanks, that's really helpful," he said sarcastically.

"Okay just… let's go in there and look around, see if we find something interesting. If we don't I buy you dinner," Don said fumbling with a large set of keys.

"Hum," hummed Colby still feeling uneasy; better get this over with, he thought.

Finally finding the right key Don unlocked the door and opened it; the door swung silently inwards. They glanced at each other Don raised an eyebrow in question. Colby felt Goosebumps rising and a cold shiver running down his spine. The absent creak of the clearly rusted hinges was creepier that any sound would have achieved.

They stepped into a large entrance hall the stall and surprisingly cool air hit them like a wall, it was like walking into another world.

Colby looked around the room noticing the thick layer of dust on every surface. From the entrance hall led a long stairwell up into the first floor. To the right an elegant archway led into, what Colby could make out, a large saloon. On the left side where two closed doors, another was on the far end of the staircase. The layer of dust on the floor was undisturbed; there was no sign that someone had been here recently.

"Should we split up?" Colby asked, even if he really didn't want to leave Don's side. Of course it would be more efficient to search the place. The sooner Colby was out of here the better, he thought. He wished Don hadn't told him about the legend.

"No," Don said and his voice told Colby that he too was unwilling to separate.

"Okay… where do we go next?"

It was almost ridiculous, Colby thought. Two grown men, two trained FBI agents standing in the entrance hall of a so called ghost house reluctant to do what they'd came here to do.

Don must have thought the same; he snorted and let out a bark like laugh.

"This is so stupid, Colb," he said and bumped his shoulder into Colby's.

"You go left I take the right side. Let's get this over with."

"Okay, Colby said and took a deep calming breath before he walked towards the first door. Little clouds of dust whooshed into the air every time his feet touched the ground. The floor boards groaned in protest. He heard Don's creaking footstep faded away as he turned to the door and opened it.

Both of them didn't notice the man that had appeared at the top of the stairs starring down on them.

Beyond the door lay a small parlor or it used to be. There wasn't much left in here that wasn't broken. The curtains hung lifeless and ripped an old couch was tumbled over so were some of the commodes. Everything was covered with a layer of dust. It didn't look like he would find anything here so he turned around not noticing the man that stood silent in one of the corners watching him.

"Did you find something?" Don's voice was drifting muffled to his ears as he opens the second door.

"Lots of rubble. You?"

Behind door number two was a spacious dining room; the great table lay broken in the middle of the room, many of the stools lay fallen over or shattered to pieces around it. It looked like there had been a fight or something, but the room too was covered in a thick layer of dust. Whatever had happened here it happened a long time ago.

"Same here," Don said the floor boards creaked again heralding his approach.

"It doesn't look like anyone was here recently."

Colby turned towards him as Don joint him in the entrance hall; the shadow of the man appeared before one of the large windows, but neither men saw him.

Together they looked at last door on this floor. "Let's do this," Don said and so they walked together down the corridor, shoulders bumping lightly into the other.

The door opened under loud protest of the hinges. Behind it was the kitchen; it looked like a battlefield. The table and chairs lay broken and scattered; cupboards had been ripped from the walls. The old tableware was shattered all around the room. And yet again everything was covered with dust. There was no sign that someone had been here at all.

On the right side stood another door half open, leading no doubt down into the cellar. Sighing Don crossed the room Colby right behind him. A loud crack was the first sign that something was wrong, but before they could do anything the floor under them collapsed sending them crashing down.

Colby groaned, he was getting to old for this. Every part of his body screamed in protest as he shifted trying to roll to his side.

"Don," he croaked.

A groan greeted him as he felt Don moving beside him.

"Yeah."

"Are you okay," Colby asked.

"Let me check," came the reply. More movements. "I think so. I can feel every damn part of my body hurt," Don said sarcastically.

"Good," Colby said smiling at Dons respond. He shifted his protesting body in an upright position.

"I'm getting to old for this," Don complained as he too lifted his body into a sitting position. Colby snorted.

"You okay Colb?" It was Don's turn to ask.

"Peachy," he answered. "You're going to buy me a big steak for this." Don snorted himself.

"Yeah I see what I can do."

Colby got to his feet first his whole body arching; he holds his hand out to Don and helped him up.

Don's eyes widen in shock and his hand wanders automatically to his weapon. Before Colby can comprehend what's happening he feels himself flying through the air, hitting a wall painfully.

He grunts in agony feeling dizzy and disoriented. The air had been punched out of his lungs.

Don's painful gasps brought him sharply back to reality. After his eyes focused again he saw Don being strangled by another man. Don tried to break the grip of the man, to no avail. Then he tried to reach for his gun, but his strength was leaving him fast.

Colby grabbed his gun instinctively and shot at the attacker. As the bullet hit true the man vanished into black smoke. Don stumble backwards reaching for his throat gasping desperately for air.

"What the hell," Colby pants as he lifted himself up. Every single bone in his body aches.

Still gasping for air Don only manages to shake his head a little.

Colby walked cautiously towards Don keeping an eye on his surroundings.

"You okay," Colby asked putting his left hand on Don's shoulder.

"I just need to catch my breath, is all," Don managed in a rough whisper.

Colby put his hand under Don's chin lifting it up. He gasps at the bruises he sees on Don's throat. Gripping his chin gently he turned it to the left side to take a better look. The only light came through the hole in the ceiling, casting the scene into a dim light.

Don shivered as he felt Colby's warm and strong hand on his skin. Colby rubbed his thump unconsciously over his cheek, sending a series of tingling sensation down his spine effectively distracting Don from their current situation.

"You really okay," Colby asked concerned, interpreting Don's shiver wrong.

Don took a deep calming breath and winced; his throat screaming in anguish. Colby continued his caress.

Don gulped painfully, but the pain helped him quash down his rising arousal.

"'m fine," he said and his hot breath gushed over Colby's fingers.

Realizing what he is doing Colby yanked his hand away as if burnt. He looks away embarrassed a slide blush coloring his cheeks.

Don filled Colby's reaction away for later use. Before he could say anything Colby opened his mouth.

"Say how did Robinson kill his family?"

Don blinked but answered the question. "He strangled them while they were sleeping and then shot himself. Why?"

"Crap," Colby cursed. He turned back to Don. "Watch out!"

He yanked Don aside as he lifted his gun firing at the ghost of Mr. Robinson. This time he nearly emptied his magazine before the ghost vanished.

"What the fuck," Don cursed.

"We should get the fucking hell out of here," Colby grounded out adrenalin pumping through his veins. "I think this is the spirit of Mr. Robinson and he is royally pissed," he said to Don as he started to make his way to the other side of the cellar dragging Don along with him. They only chance out of here was the stairs that lead up into the kitchen.

"What? What makes you…," Don started bewildered but Colby cut thru his question.

"You have ligature marks on your throat Don. Dark bruises that will normally show after a few hours. Tell me if the hiker had ligature marks, too."

"Yes he had, but…"

"But he didn't die of asphyxiation?"

"No. He died of shock. His heart simply stopped to beat."

Colby had managed to drag Don to the staircase, but before they could make their ascent, he was again thrown backwards. This time however he managed to land upright. Fighting a few seconds to regain his balance; he lost no time before empting his clip into the angry spirit.

But Mr. Robinsons didn't vanish; he still strangled Don with vigor. Don gasped for air fighting for all he's worth but the ghost is stronger forcing Don to his knees.

In his growing fear and panic Colby grabbed after the next best thing and got hold of a heavy iron rod. He swung it on top of the spirits head and was momentarily startled that it worked and the ghost vanished.

Don toppled over; Colby just managed to catch him before he hit the ground.

"Why is he attacking me, when you're the one that's trying to kill him," Don managed to say through deep rattling breaths.

"Don't know. Maybe you're his type," Colby said hugging Don briefly before he helped him to stand up.

"Yeah," Don snorted. "Or maybe he's an anti-Semitic ghost."

"Don't make fun of it," Colby said serious gripping the rod tight as he walked Don to the stairs.

They made it back into the kitchen without incident, but then the ghost appeared before them blocking they exit into the corridor. Colby assessed their option with a quick sweep of his gaze. The backdoor was no option; it was blocked by both table and chairs. The best way was back the way they'd come; he hope the rest of the floor wouldn't carve in, too. He looked back at the ghost who watched them with a calculated stare.

It flicked and vanished before re-appearing directly before them. Colby had anticipated the move and was in the process of swinging the rod like a baseball bat as the ghost appeared before him. The rod hit right through it and the ghost vanished again in a swirl of smoke. So the sucker doesn't like iron, Colby thought as he grabbed Don by the wrist dragging him around the hole towards the open door. The floor creaked and groaned but holds their weight. They made it through the door before the ghost appeared again, but Colby swings the rod masterfully like a sword and again managed to expel it. Only the front door left; they sprint towards it.

"Do you want to check the upper floor," Colby managed to ask through heavy breathing.

"No thank you," Don replied as the made it through the door stumbling down the stairs on the gravel path in front of the house.

They both turn around watching in horror and fascination the form of Mr. Robinson standing in the doorway, but not coming any closer.

"I think he can't follow us," Don said between deep breaths.

"Good," Colby said. "But better not take the risk." He walked fast towards the driver side of the car, still holding the rod tight in his hand. Don nodded and made his way to the passenger side.

Colby lost no time in starting the car. The engine roared into life; putting the car in gear he stepped down on the gas pedal prompting the tires to spin and blow gravel into the air.

In no time they reached the fence where Colby got out of the car to close it. The lock shut with a dooming click.

They spoke little on the drive back to LA. Colby concentrated on driving without exceeding the speed limit and Don concentrating on just breathing.

"How the hell am I going to explain that I emptied a whole clip into a ghost," Colby finally grounded out. "God the steak just turned into a week's worth of dinner!"

Don chuckled and smiled at Colby. "I think a can manage that."

fin


End file.
